


Dinner's Gonna Be Late

by PinkPandorafrog



Series: Advent Calendar 2017 [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aromantic, Consensual Non-Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:46:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: There were way better times for them to meet. Like when she wasn't naked or tied to a chair.





	Dinner's Gonna Be Late

**Author's Note:**

> December 11's prompt is holiday dinner!

Darcy tested the rope securing her hands behind the back of the chair. The back of the chair her legs were tied to. “You can’t do this.” She was completely naked and exposed to the man currently standing in front of her, his arms folded over his chest as he took her in.

“No?” Brock crouched down in front of the chair. “Who’s gonna stop me? You?” One fingertip skated up the inside of her thigh until it ghosted over her clit. “I’d like to see you try.”

She shifted her hips, trying to get away, but there was no escaping the insistent tease of his finger. Wherever she went, he followed. “Stop!” Her voice was just a touch breathless.

“Your mouth says stop…” His digit pushed down along her slick center until he pushed up into pussy. “But your body says you like it. Maybe I should put something in your mouth so you stop lying to me.”

There was an electronic sort of whine from over by the entryway that led from the dining room into the kitchen. “Back away,” came Tony’s voice, soft and dangerous.

Darcy froze, eyes flying wide as she looked at him. He was standing there with one of the Iron Man gauntlets on and pointed at the man in front of her, a very determined expression on his face. She hadn’t even heard him come in. She pressed her lips between her teeth, but she couldn’t contain her smile.

Brock sighed. “Fucking seriously?” Brown eyes swung up to Darcy. “You think this is funny?”

“I said back away,” Tony repeated, taking a few steps into the room.

She started to giggle. “I mean, a bit.” She shook her head. “Tony, you know Brock, right? We’re having fun.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t follow.”

“Consent play.” Brock moved his finger inside her, crooking it forward until her laughter cut off in a gasp. “What, you didn’t know Darcy likes to be tied up and forced a little?”

Tony opened his mouth to answer, but Darcy shook her head. “No. You are  _ not _ allowed to have a dick measuring competition while I’m naked and tied to a chair.” Her eyes flicked to Brock and she sighed. “You should probably untie me.”

Brock thrust his finger into her one more time before slipping free so he could tug on the quick-release knots at her legs. “Just sit tight.” He moved around behind her.

“What brings you out here?” she asked. As soon as she felt the rope give, she got to her feet. “I mean, you’re always welcome, but you usually don’t just drop by.”

Tony finally lowered his hand. His eyes moved over her much the same way Brock’s had. “I was in the area, thought I’d stop by. Is this really something you’re into?”

“Yeah.” She peered around the room for her shirt, which was over… There. Panties were there, too. She went and got both on as Brock pushed the chair back into the table. “You know I like it a bit rough. Hey, what time is it?”

Tony glanced at his watch. “Three. Ish.”

Darcy caught her lower lip between her teeth as she looked back at Brock. “I might as well get the sweet potatoes in.” She’d been anticipating getting dinner going a little late, but since they’d been interrupted…

Brock made a sweeping gesture towards the kitchen. He still looked a little cranky. “Yeah, might as well, I guess.”

She looked back and forth between them. “You two better behave yourselves, or neither one of you are getting any in the near future.” She headed into the kitchen.

They both knew about the other person, at least in theory. This was the first time they’d ever been at the same place in the same time with regards to  _ her _ , and it… Could have been better timing. Like not being naked and tied to a chair.

Brock had been able to take some leave. And he’d been all, “Thanksgiving dinner, meh.” So, she’d figured the  _ least _ she could do to show him what he’d been missing out on, even though it was late. But he’d been there, and she’d been there, and one thing had sort of led to another, and she’d been tied to a chair.

Darcy sighed as she pulled the sweet potatoes from the fridge. They were ready to go, she just needed to add butter and sugar, and of course the marshmallows.

It was encouraging that there weren’t any fighting noises from the dining room. No, in fact there were the low murmurs of voices engaged in what sounded like pleasant conversation. She paused in the middle of mixing up the sweet potatoes to concentrate on listening, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

That was good, right? They were getting along? At least they weren’t beating the shit out of each other? But curiosity was  _ killing _ her. “Guys? Am I going to have to clean bloodstains off the ceiling?”

They were… Laughing? “What the fuck kind of alternate universe is this?” She abandoned the mixing bowl and went back to the dining room. No, they were definitely laughing. Brock was no longer glaring, Tony’s gauntlet had gone and his shoulders were relaxed.

She looked back and forth between them. “Okay, I don’t know which I prefer, the glaring or the obvious getting along.”

“We’re just brainstorming.” Tony clapped his hand on the other man’s shoulder, and here was a glint in his eyes as he looked at her.

Brock shrugged. “I was thinking, it’d be good to have another pair of hands. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to tie you up and you could fight a bit more.”

She opened her mouth and took a breath to say something, but there really wasn’t anything to say. She looked between them for another second before going back to the sweet potatoes. “Are you staying for dinner?” she asked after a long moment. Tony, obviously.

“Dinner. Yeah. About that…” Tony’s voice was closer, and sure enough, when she glanced over her shoulder he was standing right at the entryway. “I wouldn’t put that in the oven yet.”


End file.
